


Long Time Gone

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-08-31
Updated: 2001-08-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 14:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11337564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Jeffrey Spender gets a letter.





	Long Time Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Long Time Gone by Skinner Box

Long Time Gone  
by Skinner Box  
Email:   
Summary: Jeffrey Spender gets a letter.  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: Spender/Krycek  
Spoilers/Timeline: Existence  
Disclaimer: The X-files and these characters belong to Chris Carter and Fox Broadcasting. I play with them out of love and for no profit.  
Note: Thank you to drovar and the fine folk of the Spenderfic list.  
Archive: please ask first

* * *

Long Time Gone  
by Skinner Box

He's been a long time gone before. More than six months when my late and unlamented father had him thrown in that pit of a Tunisian prison. It's been less than half that time. So why does this manilla envelope, addressed to me in familiar block capitals, weigh so heavy in my hand?

The flap slices into my finger as I open it, cold shock of pain less a surprise than the welling red- it's deep for a paper cut. Sucking my opened knuckle, I pull out the letter awkwardly, one handed, like he'd have done it: late morning on my day off, still one armed and sleepy again from morning sex like we always have on Tuesdays when he's home. Which he's not.

It takes a minute to figure it out. The Cyrillic throws me- for all the work I put into it my Russian's still not that good. A minute later I laugh. In-joke or paranoia, I'm not sure which, but it's phonetic English in St. Cyril's alphabet. Only Alex. Then I start sounding out past the first few words:

  Hello Jeffrey.

  An honorable man promised me he'd set in motion the plan that  
  ends with this letter in your hands if ever he knew for sure that  
  I was dead. So there you are. I'm alive writing this now, but...  
  I'm trying to think like a dead man here, Jeff. Bear with me.

  Shit. This was never part of my plan. Any of it. You were an  
  accident, then an addiction. Selfish of me, yeah, I know, knew,  
  goddammit. I guess all I really have to say is thank you. And  
  forgive me. Anyway, there'll be a data dump to your computer.  
  Nothing dangerous, just the numbers to a few more accounts  
  you didn't know about. Stay safe.

  Yours truly,  
   
  Asher ben Chaim v'Sarah

He signed it with his Hebrew name. The name God calls you, he told me once, my fervently Jewish, atheist Alex. 

I'm taking this way too calmly, I think to myself. Then I realize I'm sitting on the shoulder of Butter Road by the mailbox in my robe and pyjamas and blood is everywhere.

The End

  
Archived: June 03, 2001 


End file.
